I bequeath myself to the dirt
to grow from the grass I love.
If you want me again look for me
under your boot soles.

You will hardly know who I am
or what I mean,
But I shall be good health
to you nevertheless,
And filter and fibre
your blood.

Failing to fetch me at first
keep encouraged,
Missing me one place
search another,
I stop somewhere
waiting for you.